


Caught

by Quillaninc



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-26
Updated: 2010-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillaninc/pseuds/Quillaninc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://mulanreflection.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://mulanreflection.livejournal.com/"><strong>mulanreflection</strong></a>'s <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/820752.html">Gun!kink</a> request on <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/"><strong>fic_on_demand</strong></a></p>Graphic Sexual situations.  Hot sweaty smut, including slightly amorous (um, understatement?) use of gun.  Basically, if mulan's request doesn't give you a clue, nothing will.
    </blockquote>





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://mulanreflection.livejournal.com/profile)[**mulanreflection**](http://mulanreflection.livejournal.com/)'s [Gun!kink](http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/820752.html) request on [](http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/profile)[**fic_on_demand**](http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/)
> 
> Graphic Sexual situations.  Hot sweaty smut, including slightly amorous (um, understatement?) use of gun.  Basically, if mulan's request doesn't give you a clue, nothing will. 

"You should be a little more careful where you indulge yourself, Heero," Wufei murmured silkily from behind.  "One never knows when one is being watched."

Heero grit his teeth with a barely suppressed snarl.  His arms rippled as he pulled his wrists against the handcuffs threaded between the thick uprights on the metal-backed chair.  He refused to respond to the dark chuckle incited by his attempts.  A drop of sweat slid along his jaw, then fell to roll slowly down his bare torso; he could feel every slow inch of its decent, the sensation greatly heightened by knowing he couldn't brush it aside, even if he'd wanted to. 

How the hell Chang had managed this, Heero would dearly love to know.  For one thing, that kind of information could be extremely useful.  One moment, he was walking through the door to his apartment, the next he could remember, here he was ... _shackled_ ... just like some cur of a dog, by _his_ handcuffs, to _his_ kitchen chair.

It was a toss up whether that fact was more embarrassing than coming to completely naked.  "What do you want?" he growled.

Wufei chuckled again.  "You can't tell?  Tsk, tsk."  He shook his head with mock dismay, and Heero could just see his smirk from the corner of his eye.  "What would Commander Une say, hearing that one of her most prized agents couldn't figure out such a simple thing?"

He stepped out of view again, one hand trailing across Heero's shoulders, oh so carefully.  As it lifted away, Heero felt his skin prickling uneasily where Chang had touched him.  He was about to snap a sarcastic remark when a familiar sound chilled him enough to momentarily rob him of speech.

The gun's bolt slid again, clicking back into place, the automatic mechanism engaging the magazine with well oiled precision.

The corner of Heero's lip curled disdainfully, his best defence against the unaccustomed trickle of fear that raised the fine hairs at his nape and shivered down his spine.  It wasn't so much dying by his own weapon that bothered him, as the potential of being found so ignominiously.  "So, that's it, is it?"

Again that chuckle, warm against his ear.  "Don't be stupid, Heero.  It doesn't become you."  Suddenly, the cool of the handgun's barrel came to rest on his other shoulder, feeling both solid yet unreal against his skin.  A shudder rippled through him; he closed his eyes to mentally will the sensation away. 

"I told you, you should be more careful, Heero.  Anyone perceptive enough could spot a mile away that your fascination with firearms isn't exactly... normal," Wufei murmured, his breath warm again on Heero's skin.  Heero's eyes flared wide when sharp teeth sank lightly into the meat of his shoulder, a rough swipe of tongue followed by long, languid suckling as Wufei moved away.  Again, that icy chill skittered down his back.

He'd always known there were worse things than dying; he hadn't expected this to be one of them.  His lip curled again.  "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Chang," he sneered.  "Seems like the only one with an unhealthy fascination here is you."

Another dark chuckle, Wufei's eyes gleaming with amusement.  "Oh?" he said with deceptive nonchalance.  "So, it's not you I see, stripping down his weapon with such ardent attention?" The gun on his shoulder slid forward, parts of it now warm, others still metal-cool against his flesh; as it arced around, the sight-marker at the end of the barrel flicked against one flat, brown nipple.  He gasped his surprise, and Wufei's laughter followed. 

"Such exquisite care, Heero," Wufei murmured, his lips again brushing the bite mark he'd left behind.  "Such exquisite, _lavish_ care."

Heero did his best to snort.  "Any decent soldier is taught to look after his weapon, Chang."  He shot for icy contempt, but an unexpected quiver got in the way.

He could feel more than see one elegant, dark eyebrow raise slightly.  "I'm sure they are, Yuy.  But so rarely does one see such ... _excitement_ ... at the task."  Again, Wufei tsked a mocking disapproval.  "Sometimes, those uniforms are made to fit just a little too well, don't you think?"

A half growl rose in his throat, but became strangled as Wufei's other arm slid over his shoulder, coming to cradle the gun expertly in his hands.  Heero's eyes continued to widen as Wufei smoothly disengaged, released, then slammed the magazine back home, quickly priming the weapon again, all in one fluid motion. 

Without intending to, he shifted his legs in an attempt to conceal his immediate reaction.

Wufei laughed, obviously pleased with himself.  Then Heero was surrounded by nothing more than the chill of the cool evening air.  It should have been comforting.  Should have been, but it wasn't.

An uneasy shudder set him on edge.  He didn't like this feeling of vulnerability ... or, perhaps, he liked it too much for comfort.  The sound of the firing bolt being disengaged then re-engaged again, over and over from behind, raised goose pimples along his flesh and made him suppress a slight groan.

There was a whisper of fabric, the sound of a shirt falling away, and then Wufei was there, sliding across Heero's lap with an unholy grin, the fabric of his uniform trousers course and rough on Heero's naked thighs.  Heero tried to hide the unbidden thrill that made his skin ripple at the touch.

Still grinning, Wufei rested his forearms on Heero's shoulders with a studied carelessness, his right hand still weighed down by the gun.  As Heero moved uncomfortably beneath his weight, he shifted himself to accommodate, and Heero felt the occasional brush against an unwelcome, developing erection.  The touch stilled him immediately when he realised.

"Admit it, Heero," Wufei leaned in to whisper.  "You want this."

"Forget it!" glaring, Heero spat back.

Wufei chuckled but didn't reply.  Instead, he trailed the barrel of the gun over the juncture between Heero's neck and shoulder, brushing briefly beneath his ear, eliciting a full groan from the restrained man. 

Slowly, enticingly, the gun traced the line of Heero's throat, caressed his collarbone, slid slowly down his chest, down, down, down, until it played along the sensitive skin where dark curls rested along taut muscles, the end of the barrel toying lazily, back and forth.

At that first intimate touch, Heero gasped and trembled, unwilling to believe this was happening to him, yet unable to deny the seductive wickedness in Wufei's grin.  Perhaps sensing he was close to a breakthrough, Wufei slid himself back to perch directly on Heero's knees, allowing a small amount room between them. 

Dark Asian eyes raked over Heero's body with unconcealed interest while the gun continued to meander idly amongst his curls.  The smile on his captor's face was entirely too unsettling for words.  Mischievously, Wufei flicked his eyes up to meet Heero's, silently challenging, then back down to Heero's embarrassingly hard cock.  Heero had an uneasy sense that he knew what was coming next, but it was still too much for his senses to deal with when it happened.

A strangled gasp of shock left his throat as he felt the barrel slide carefully lower, curving round to run gently up the underside of his cock.  His hips bucked sharply beneath the touch, and he bit his tongue against the tiny whimper that threatened to escape.  Wufei's maddening chuckle made his face burn with mortification.

"Beg me for it, Heero," he felt Wufei murmur against his ear. 

Heero shook his head with the kind of angry desperation that only comes from fighting oneself.  "No," he snarled, dark blue eyes flashing ominously before sliding half closed as his cock received another sweeping caress from the weapon in Wufei's hand.

He felt the muzzle nudging his sac delicately, and a sudden thought made him freeze.  The inherent danger sent another thrill through him, and he squirmed slightly against the weapon pressed gently against him, the soft, deep whimper finally escaping.

Wufei chuckled again. "I see you weren't paying attention earlier, if you don't already know the answer," he remarked in reply to the unspoken question in Heero's eyes.

Heero glared at him, deciding that no reply was better than incriminating himself.  Smirking, Wufei slowly dragged the gun barrel upwards, playing along Heero's clenching stomach muscles, trailing delicately up his neckline, until the smooth, skin-warmed body of the weapon was pressed lightly to his cheek, the muzzle pointing somewhere over his shoulder. 

"Should I make you guess?" Wufei mused playfully.  Heero swallowed heavily: the sharp scent of the oil; the acrid smell of spent cartridges; the feel of tangible, unmovable metal; the fantasy, the nightmare, the heady intoxication; it was all too delicious, it all went straight to his groin. 

Every part of him was coiled tightly with tension, but otherwise, he refused to give the other the satisfaction of a reply.  Wufei grinned anyway, then slowly, deliberately, squeezed the trigger.

The click of the hammer striking an empty chamber rang loud, so close to his ear.  A shudder ran through him, his heart beating fast and hard, his breath exhaling shakily.  Carefully, the muzzle was brought to gently trace quivering lips, Wufei's eyes triumphant.

"Beg."

"No," Heero whispered against the touch of warmed metal.

Wufei grinned again.  The barrel slid back down between them, brushing up and down trembling thighs.

"Beg."

Heero groaned, but again ground out, "No."

Lower, lower, Heero's thighs widening to accommodate the intrusion, Wufei's legs also spread across his knees, a corded arm warm against Heero's shoulder where Wufei gripped the chair behind for balance.  Again, the weapon toyed along his sac, making Heero groan, his head flung back, hips trying to jerk against the touch.

"Beg."

"No!"

The barrel pressed against the sensitive spot behind his balls, and this time Heero yelped, unable, perhaps unwilling to control the tremble that shook him.

"Beg."

Heero whimpered.

"Beg."

He could feel the sweat tracing languid paths down his chest, the back of his neck, his thighs.  The barrel of the gun delicately stroked his perineum, his balls, his thighs, his cock.  Wufei's mouth dipped in to nip at his neck, his jaw, his lobes.  Every muscle in his body was quivering.

"Beg."  Wufei bent to latch onto one unattended nipple, teething it, laving it, suckling on it while the barrel of Heero's gun caressed almost uncomfortably between his legs, until Heero couldn't think any longer.

"Damn it, all right!  _All right_!" he shouted.

Wufei slid up and bit his earlobe, harder than was probably necessary.  "That's not what I asked you," he murmured darkly.

Again, a quiver rippled through him.  Unbidden, the words whispered from his lips.  "Please.  Just ... do it.  Please."

It was as close as he could get.  Even reduced to a shuddering ball of pure lust, he couldn't bring himself to ask Wufei to spread him, take him, fuck him blind.

Obviously, he didn't need to.  The gun clattered suddenly to the floor, Wufei shoving Heero's chair up against the table by the wall so fast, Heero was glad his arms were already out of the way of the backrest. 

His pride demanded that he not look, that he keep his eyes turned aside when Wufei reached hastily for his belt.  Pride stood no chance against the beauty of honey-dark skin, of black curls and a hard, glistening cock, all revealed as Wufei shoved his trousers down his legs with quick, rough motions, his grin now lost in the intensity of his hunger.

Without knowing, Heero licked his lips slowly.

Quickly digging a thin tube from the pocket of his discarded pants, Wufei's eyes raked over Heero again.  They must have liked what they saw; Heero noticed his cock twitch enticingly, and felt an unexpected response in his own.  He licked his lips again, uncertainly this time.

Wufei smirked, then knelt between his open thighs and pulled him roughly towards the front of the chair, sliding one shoulder beneath Heero's knee as he did so.  Propped up in such an unaccommodating position, Heero watched as Wufei studiously squeezed a large amount of the gel out onto his fingers.

It felt slick, cold, Wufei's fingers hot and roughened as they slowly pressed into him, diligently working him open;  groaning, Heero writhed against the discomfort.  "Pretend it's your gun if it makes you feel better, Heero," Wufei smirked.

"Bastard," Heero glowered darkly, then arched suddenly with wide, surprised eyes as Wufei's fingers curled against something that sent sparks of fire coursing through his body.

Still, Wufei didn't stop, continuing to flame those sparks until Heero writhed, half splayed over Chang's shoulder, weak with the sheer, unrelenting pleasure of it.  Twice Wufei withdrew, only to return with fingers slick once more, working carefully until even the tiniest thrust slid in and out effortlessly.

Fingers curled again, and Heero let out another surprised gasp, then growled when Wufei retreated abruptly, unceremoniously dropping him back onto the chair.  He was startled when his snarl was suddenly taken captive by Wufei's insistent, commanding lips.

There was nothing affectionate about this kiss, though.  It was hungry and demanding, at times bordering on brutal as Wufei straddled his thighs again, this time pressed close, bare flesh sliding against flesh, hard erection rocking silkily, sensually against erection, leaving them both gasping and muttering softly into each other's mouths. 

His head was held in a firm, relentless grasp as Wufei devoured him, held there until he caved in to the burning inside, and wantonly opened himself to returning Wufei's kiss.

Fighting now on a new battlefield, their mouths hungrily contesting for dominance, Heero was becoming helplessly overwhelmed by the sensations surging over him.  Wufei's hands brushed over his shoulders, then glided sensuously down his arms; a delicate shiver shimmered across Heero's skin, quickly chased by the heat of Wufei's mouth working back down his throat and settling to suckle along the tender flesh at the base of his neck.

The feel of Wufei's fight-honed torso warm and hard against his, imprisoning him even more than the cuffs at his wrists, Chang's breath warm against his skin, his mouth slick, his erection hard and urgent against Heero's; it was more intoxicating than even the scent of gun oil, than anything else Heero had experienced.

It wasn't until his hands had already delved deep into Wufei's dark hair, cuffs dangling from one wrist as he wrenched the silky strands free from their strict confines, that he realised what Chang had done.

Wufei pulled back and smirked into Heero's eyes, his hands sliding up to wrap around Heero's forearms, his thumbs caressing the tender skin on the inside of Heero's wrist, despite the strength in his grasp.  "Give me the slightest reason to regret it, and I'll have you back in them," he warned.

"I'd like to see you try," Heero glared back.  He gave an experimental tug at his wrists, deciding he wasn't going to get out of this unless he was prepared to do some serious damage.  Strangely enough, he didn't have the urge.

Wufei chuckled.  "I've done it once," he leaned in again to whisper against Heero's ear, "and you loved it.  Now, hold on.  I don't want to drop you."

Stunned and quite befuddled by their lust, Heero could do little more than dig his fingers into Wufei's shoulders as Chang carefully shifted them both to the floor.  Wufei would have bruises later, something Heero felt a moment of smugness over.

The cool floorboards slowly warmed to the skin of his shoulders as Wufei quickly pulled Heero over his lap and hitched one arm beneath his knee.  Then, in one swift move, Wufei was over him, supporting his weight on one hand splayed near enough to Heero's neck to catch a few strands of his mussed brown hair.

And damn Wufei, the bastard, for being content to remain there, grinning down at him, eyes glinting wickedly as he teased Heero with little more than lazy nudges.

"Hurry it up, Chang," he growled, then caught his breath as Wufei pressed harder.  Yet still Chang held back, dipping his head to scrape his teeth along Heero's shoulder again. 

Mouthing and teasing and tasting the sensitive flesh, he rocked against Heero a few more times in a promise he showed little intention of fulfilling, until Heero, beyond desperation, shouted, "Enough with the fuckin' foreplay!"

Wufei's arm shook slightly as he levered himself up enough to smirk into Heero's begging, demanding eyes.  Eyes that widened in shock then fell shut with a long groan as Wufei slowly, steadily sank into him, filling Heero completely, incredibly, _totally_. 

The leg hooked over the crook of Wufei's arm tightened, the other desperately trying to find purchase around Wufei's lean waist, thigh muscles rippling as Heero bucked his hips up into the sensation, eyes still closed and head flung back.  Some distant part heard Wufei's hiss of surprise and drove Heero to thrust his hips upwards again, groaning at the feeling of Chang sliding just that little bit deeper. 

Wufei shifted again, leaning his weight forward onto his one splayed palm, arm tight around Heero's other leg and eyes burning into Heero's when his lids flickered open.  Then slowly, so damn slowly, he slid almost all the way out, paused, and then slammed back in, hard and fast.  The angle was perfect, and Heero gave a loud, shocked cry as fire shattered through him.

Slow out, slam back in, hot, slick, intense.  Heero moaned and writhed beneath the relentless onslaught, Chang's soft grunts mingling with his whispered curses and coarse demands.  Heero's right hand flung out to claw desperately at the kitchen floor, his left leaving gouges and even more bruises along Wufei's shoulder, his arm, his back, his neck.

Wufei shifted his weight, finding better balance, and Heero groaned as the shift pressed Chang in deeper again.  Dark eyes smirked down at Heero, despite the faintly desperate edge to their gleam.  "Like that, do you?" Wufei rasped, and rocked into Heero again.

"Shut _up_!" Heero gasped, his eyes rolling back into his head as the pleasure coursed through him.  "Just.  Shut.  The.  Fuck.  _Up_!"

"My… _ugh_… pleasure," Wufei grinned, and pulled Heero a little closer again.

And the way Wufei pounded into him after that was absolutely glorious, sliding Heero closer and closer to the edge, his gasps and howls now completely beyond his control.  It could have been a second, it could have been forever, before his hand slid between their bodies to grasp and stroke and tease himself towards that place that was just …_there_ … just beyond him, so close, yet nowhere near close enough to save his sanity.

His other hand clawed at the ground again, bumping into something hard, solid, something that spun around and around as it skittered towards Heero.  Without even thinking, he recognised what it was.  The smell of gun oil and spent cartridges mixed with Chang's uniquely musky scent, the two now forever intertwined in his mind. 

Everything blurred - Wufei's hard, slick body, against him, above him, _in_ him; the barrel of his gun, now digging into his neck; his own hand, pleasuring himself furiously - it all came together with a loud, hoarse shout as Heero arched against the intensity of his pleasure.

His free hand now clutched at Wufei's neck, legs tightening and his vision turning dark at the edges to an almost frightening degree.  He felt more than heard Wufei's long groan against his collarbone, barely registering Chang's sudden stillness while his mind and body tried to find a way to reconnect. 

For a long moment, neither moved.  Wufei's arm was trembling as he held his weight long enough to release Heero's thigh, then slowly lever himself away with both hands.  Unnoticed, Heero gave a soft 'uhn' as Wufei slid from within him, a tiny shudder rippling through his pleasure hazed senses. 

Some part of Heero noted Chang's soft panting and registered the sweat-slick body hovering just above him, trying not to collapse completely until he had crawled to one side.  That part tucked these memories safely away to fuel other fantasies later on.  The rest of him - what little could function at all - was too busy cataloguing the aches and discomfort and overall, pervading sense of _satisfaction_ he felt.

Then a sudden realisation hit.  Shit.  Oh shit.  "You're going to ruin my career with this, aren't you?"

Wufei managed a weak laugh.  "Oh gods no!  I don't plan to give this up for anything."

Fury flared at such a presumption.  "Fuck you!" Heero snapped.

Wufei's chuckle was low and dark, just as it had been earlier.  "You never know.  Play your cards right, and you might get lucky."

Cards?  Lucky?  A whole new field of fantasies suddenly blossomed in Heero's dazed mind.  Images of Chang, tied artfully with ropes and chains, begging just as he had, wanting, needing …

A stray yawn caught him and, without really meaning to, he slid into a deep, blissful sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Heero woke alone in his bed the next morning, he felt uncommonly groggy.  It didn't prevent him from noticing that something was particularly out of order, though.  A hard, heavy weight lay on his chest.  Cautiously, he slid open an eyelid to investigate.

Wufei's personal handgun lay there.  A slow smirk tilted sleepy lips.

The game was on.

~ owari ~

**Author's Note:**

> *runs away and hides* I don't believe I wrote this.


End file.
